


The night is silent, and raw divinity spills from the stars

by AgapeCrow



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ghost Au, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Found Family, Ghosts, Grief, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, My First Fanfic, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Seine, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, What-If, dealing with grief, kind of a fix-it?, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 05:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgapeCrow/pseuds/AgapeCrow
Summary: The rain soothes its cries, slowly but surely. The pitter patter of its patterns lessens each minute. The cries of the breeze shouting from afar, sweeping Javert’s unruly hair in all directions. There was a time where it was not unruly and messy, once from a brighter time, a softer moment of weakness. Hand curls, strangled giggles resounded and soft touch was allowed. Verdant surrounds them and luscious white on flowers, it was turning evening and the jubilation of the moment settled on their bones as they clanked together in unison and joined in body and soul once again, and so afterwards. It was a brighter time then.(Beware of the tags, this is not a kind fanfiction)
Relationships: Javert/Jean Valjean
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	The night is silent, and raw divinity spills from the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, solid plotline here I come. Welcome to hell folks, grab your popcorn and your snacks, this is going to be a ride.
> 
> This is going to be a fanfiction involving the grief of losing a loved one, one that is especially rooted in the family, the spiral down the hole of depression and denial because of said loved one and all that comes after it.
> 
> This is a Ghost! Valjean AU that I made into my therapy fic, also an actual fic where there is a solid plotline and an actual ending so it is undeniably one of my first fanfictions, please be kind :'))
> 
> All characters belong to Victor Hugo

There was a time where tears did not come easily to him, a time where everything was black and white and bad and good, temporary and phony balance in the universe, everything and nothing. That was a time in the past, it was over, it had been over. Or so he thought. The rain down poured from the heavens as the coffin was unceremoniously covered in shale and mud, the shovel in hand shook as he willed his own trembling hands to soothe itself. The uneasy ring of sobs and gasps collectively resounded on his far-left side and all Javert wanted to do was tear his sideburns off the complexion of his own design, one that is so stretched into a frown that it was bordering into Inspector Javert, the shadows of the past coming back to crawl and tear. A single tear was shed from himself, his overcoat soaked through and through with water from a broken heaven and the heavy tool on hand collapsing on the soil with a gentle thud and a splash. The grandchildren were at home, and the daughter of the estranged collapses on her husband's hands as she sobs and sobs. Meanwhile, her husband shakes as he holds the dear thing on his arms and he fails to swallow the lump on his throat, still not processing the events that are occurring as of the present time. Javert looks over to them, the crows behind caws with ferocity and there he knew, he will never see a dove again. 

The rain soothes its cries, slowly but surely. The pitter patter of its patterns lessens each minute. The cries of the breeze shouting from afar, sweeping Javert’s unruly hair in all directions. There was a time where it was not unruly and messy, once from a brighter time, a softer moment of weakness. Hand curls, strangled giggles resounded and soft touch was allowed. Verdant surrounds them and luscious white on flowers, it was turning evening and the jubilation of the moment settled on their bones as they clanked together in unison and joined in body and soul once again, and so afterwards. It was a brighter time then, warmth was prominent and delight was all around, he did not partake in it once, like everything else, and yet he fell. And he rose. And that was his salvation. As were these individuals besides him, trembling like a leaf in the breeze as their savior passes 4 feet under the earth, back to his beginning, up where he can make a garden of his own with the lilies and the flowers and the hyacinths of his choice.  
  
“Let’s go, Estelle and Jacquelyn must be waiting”

They went back, the longest road they used, savoring quietly the aroma of fresh hell water and scathed cobblestone. Faces drenched in streaks of tears that would not stop, hair in disarray and clothes in pure darkness. They looked like gamins, to put into words. Nothing short of a gamin, a street wretch. Funny thing was they were, before. Javert swept the strand of hair out of his face and looked back at Cosette and Marius Pontmercy, both were huddling with each other as they walked, Cosette looked down in stricken sadness and Marius was with a far away gaze. Both looked lost and Javert cannot blame them for their improper conduct now, for he would look the same if asked to another, he will not be a hypocrite. Not now. 

The walk was long and steady, breaths finally in order and faces were cleaned off with quivering fingertips. Marius called for a carriage, not even he notices how hoarse he sounded, as if the baron had been screaming bloody murder for the past hour and only then did he stop to take a breath. Javert was silent as they all rode the carriage, his posture was improper and so was his demeanor, Cosette mirrored him unconsciously, the same frown on the old man’s face mirrored the young woman, and the Baron tried to take deep breaths. Javert did not settle on the cushions, it was far too comfortable for his liking and so, he stiffened. Arching his back to straighten his posture, he did not hesitate to let his eyes wander over yonder to the meadows and the wheat fields that were once filled with spectacularities of the unknown and the lost. The animals of virtue, the sky of grey, it was all turning and turning and turning and hurting. And it was painful. And it was as if he was running all over again. Javert inhaled once, and twice over before looking back once again, _he promised that he will keep them safe, he did promise_ Cosette was a mess, mirrored every worry and every struggled he had into her fragile stature that would seem like it be so much for such a young woman of her age. Javert did not reach out but instead let his eyes wander yet over to her husband, he stared outside to the open world of sea and colours, his voice scratched with sand and Javert looked away before he would regret it. 30 minutes stretched on out to infinity and he offered his thinking to time, he was a changed man, he thought and he saw and he felt like never before. The soft gentle hands of the pruner wilted into a bony mass and then turned into stardust, leaving the unintended oakwood of a heart to rot in its place, forever waiting, forever wilting, it was the worst punishment of all

\--

“Mama! Papa!”

Javert’s eyes snapped open as the carriage undeniably stopped in its tracks, the muffled shrieks of the grandchildren were heard outside the doors. Frowning to himself, he swiped his hands up to his rowdy hair and slicked it back, the frizz bouncing back and making him growl low on his throat. Eyes darted, he noticed Marius grab for the carriage door and open it, two small hands coming crawling to the carriage with speed and with hindsight, and the brightly old lady stands with a sad smile on her face. A strangled chuckle was what Cosette made as she told her children to get off the carriage to let them out, Javert witnessed the sight with a blank understanding of what was to come but, as he always had, he ventured down the carriage and onto the cobblestone sidewalk. Dusting himself off and sniffing quietly, on the corner of his eye, he sees Cosette ushering the children back into the house with the glint of horrification in her face, Marius and Touissant trailing behind her as they gently close the door, forgetting about Javert. 

_It was to be expected_ The man thought to himself, bringing down the hand that he hadn’t known he was holding up and perching it quietly inside the pockets of his damp coat. Javert trekked forward, he left the premise of the Pontmercy residence with a chain of unbearable guilt weighing his foot down on the foundation of the home. It was madness, he was not obligated to live and to love on the beige tinge walls of the house, nor did he ever volunteer. He will let the family mourn in peace, as he should, and leave them to their own devices while he-- 

He stopped on his tracks, the glaze of the evening stars catching up to his vision as they sparkled, as if waving at him, as if it was smiling down at him. Javert felt the prickles of unbidden tears starting to form on the corner of his eyes, and he wiped it with a shaky breath. Javert was not like this, it was not like himself to let emotions take over the reigns of his heart nor his mind. He will go back to the Pontmercy residence-- no it is not his house to live in, then maybe his apartment-- he does not live in it anymore, Rue plumet then-- that is not your home, not anymore. Javert scrunched his face with his thumb and middle finger before deciding that sleeping will not be on his list of things to do this evening.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos and comments for they motivate me to write further, loves and hugs from me!!


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